Boy Meets World: Season 8:
by Diamondquill
Summary: Topanga, Cory, Shawn and Eric find themselves in the jaw-droppingly busy New York, each with a problem of their own.


Boy Meets World: Season #8:

Episode 1: I Hate New York

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters—well, I own a few—but the story ideas are completely mine. Please don't sue me!

Summary: Cory, Topanga, Shawn, and Eric find themselves in the jaw-droppingly busy place of New York. Topanga falls in love with her new home but Cory has a bit of trouble liking the 'extremely polluted, extremely corrupted' place he has ended up at. The group gets two apartments, Topanga attends the New York Institute for Law Students—I pulled the name out of a hat!—Cory and Shawn continue their studies at another college next door, and Eric tries to find a job.

Note: Though some things don't make sense in my stories, that's just how they're going to be. For example, Shawn never changed his hair and he never got that stupid little mustache!

Scene 1: Exploration of the Corrupted

"Topanga, we shouldn't have come here!"

Topanga rolled her eyes at her husband who was walking behind her with a sour expression on his face. "Cory, you've said that a hundred times so far and—"

"You've ignored me a hundred times so far, too!" Cory interrupted. "We shouldn't have come here!"

"Cory, give me one good reason why not," Topanga said checking the numbers on the doors on either side of her in the corridor they were walking in, "and I swear I'll..."

She stopped as she reached the door she was looking for. She lost her trail of thoughts in the excitement of a new home. She took a deep breath, let it out and took in another one.

"Honey, this isn't exactly an ideal place for Yoga!" Cory told her sarcastically. Topanga let out the breath and glared at him.

"I-I mean," Cory stuttered with an apologetic smile, "it's just so..."

Topanga waited for him to finish his sentence with an 'I-dare-you-to' look on her face.

"...un-clean?" Cory finished with the minor statement to what he had on his mind.

"It's New York, Cory!"

"Yes, and New York is... _un-clean_!"

Topanga rolled her eyes—something she seemed to have done a lot on their trip to New York—opened the door and stepped in. The apartment was completely un-appealing with peeling walls, stained carpets and... other... problems. "It's... pretty!"

Cory shook his head with a soft chuckle. "No, no! Pretty isn't the right word. More like... polluted or corrupted..."

Topanga soundly ignored him—again—and walked around the living room with a jaunty step. "Don't worry, honey! We'll fix it up for now and when we have the money, we'll make it into an actual, inhabitable home!" She walked into the kitchen, then came out with a less-happy look on her face, then walked into the bathroom and came out holding her nose. "You wanna oben ub the window?" She asked still holding her nose.

"Sure, ma'am." Cory walked over to the windows, threw aside the two suitcases in his hand—almost shouting with glee at the rush of blood to his arms—and opened the windows.

"Hey, Suga'! Yer cat's peein' on my Taco, 'gain! You come 'ere and get it right now or I'm going ta—"and then followed a series of words from down below which Cory rather wouldn't have heard.

He turned back to Topanga, shuddering at the formless man on the streets and whispered, "Your honor, I rest my case."

Topanga winced. "Maybe we shouldn't open that window."

"Ye think?"

"Oh, come on, Cory!" Topanga pleaded. "We just have bad neighbors, so what?" She walked over to his side, put her arms around his waist and pouted up at him.

Cory grinned. "I like it when you pout like that."

Topanga smiled. "You do?"

Cory nodded with a wide smile.

"Then we'll stay?"

The smile vanished in less than a second. "We shouldn't have come here!"

"Good!" Topanga kissed him lightly and walked away.

"I _hate_ New York!" Cory said through gritted teeth.

Scene 2: Java Spot Coffee Club note: this isn't an actual coffee club!

Shawn picked up four mugs of coffee from the front counter and walked back to the table they were all sitting at. Topanga was looking at the Registration Course for Uncertain Law Students while Cory stared over her shoulder, blinking blankly, and Eric sat opposite them with a newspaper in his hand, looking over the Job Section.

"So, Cory and Topanga, how was your new home?

Cory slowly raised his head and glared up at him but Topanga put her hand on his and patted it to calm him down. "It was okay, how about yours?"

"We got the best apartment they had!" Shawn told her proudly, "Already supplied with a tv, vcr, stereo system—"

"Uh! How come?" Topanga objected.

Shawn shrugged. "The manager thought I looked like his grandson so he wanted to make sure I was snug as a snail!"

"Snug as a snail," Cory said chuckling softly. He suddenly turned to Shawn, grabbed his shirt and growled, "While you are as 'snug as a snail' in your apartment,_ we_ have snails, rats, spiders and a crazy cat who likes to pee on tacos crawling around in ours!"

Shawn winced out of disgust. "Tacos, huh?"

"Hey, guys, do you think I'd make a good eyebrow waxer?"

Everyone turned to Eric with an incredulous look on their faces. "What?"

Eric frowned at them. "No?" He checked the newspaper again. "How about a hair-stylist?"

Topanga leaned forward and said. "If you become a hair-stylist, tell me where you work."

Eric grinned. "Why, you wanna get your hair done under me?"

"No," Topanga explained with a smile. "I'll make sure that I use everything in my power to _never enter that place_!"

Eric ignored her like always. "You know, your hair's a bit too long. I wonder how you'd look with a short, cloud-like formation around your face."

"Touch her head and die!" Cory told him simply. He let go of Shawn's shirt and took a drink of his coffee. Topanga on the other hand looked thoughtful. She touched her hair and looked back at Eric who was smiling rather triumphantly at her. Shawn saw the look and nudged Cory.

"Uh, Eric, Topanga, NO!" Cory said in the best ordering-voice he could muster up.

"Oh, don't worry, Cory! It's not going to happen!" Topanga sighed at him.

Eric nudged her and audibly whispered, "Good thinking! Keep him completely clueless!"

"No, Eric, I'm serious!" Topanga frowned at him and shook her head but Eric didn't get it. He disappeared behind the paper again but his excited giggles were heard by all as they exchanged sorry looks.

Scene 3: Cory and Topanga's Apartment, 11:30 p.m.

They had finally finished cleaning up their bedroom and Topanga was ready to expire for the rest of the night and perhaps well into the morning. She sighed as she set down the brush on her dressing table and climbed into bed next to Cory.

"Well, we finally have a room that can actually be used for sleeping!" Topanga said. "You still mad at me?"

"Well, I—" Cory began but he was cut off when Topanga leaned over and kissed him. She leaned back and looked at him with a completely innocent look on her face—the gall of her. "If that's what I get," Cory said slowly, "honey, I'm real mad! I'm enraged, I'm—"

Topanga laughed and jumped on him. He caught her and kissed her when suddenly, the door opened. They both turned around to find Eric in the doorway. He wore a black turtle-neck and black pants with a pink comb in one of the pockets.

"Hey, you guys have that weird machine that blows hot air into people's hair?"

Topanga blinked. "Get out."

"Oh! Found it!" He grabbed her hair-dryer off her dressing table and turned back to them. He took on a serious pose like a cheesy movie-detective. "Now," he said, "I'm armed and ready!" He pulled out the comb and held both up like guns.

"For what?"

"I-Dno!" He shrugged.

"Eric," Topanga said very slowly, "Get out of my house before I call the police!"

"But why—oh!" Eric gasped. "I see! You were getting' your... okay, okay, I got ya'!" He winked and walked out of the room. Topanga turned back to Cory and frowned.

"Hey, do you have like hair-gel or shampoo or anything?" Eric asked peeking his head into the room again.

A pillow went flying through the air at him and hit him squarely in the face. "Get out!"

Scene 4: Percy's Dead Skin Care

"Eric Mattews?"

"Yep, that's me!" Eric smiled at Percival Percy, an old, thin man with a crooked nose that suggested that it had been broken more than once. He also had very dirty finger nails and a bald head.

Percy nodded slowly and shook his head. "The dumb one."

Eric shrugged and grinned. "Everyone's heard of me!"

Percy smiled and nodded again. "Yes... hmmm."

He turned away and sighed. "What experience do you have with hair and/or nails?"

Eric thought carefully. "Well, I _do_ own both..."

Percy turned around again and frowned at him. "Anything else?"

"Umm... I _have_ shampooed my hair atleast twice before in my life and... oh, yes! I clip my nails atleast twice every decade!"

Percival looked up towards the ceiling with a tortured look on his face. "Why me?"

Eric shrugged again. "Who knows!"

Percival could but stare. Then, he sighed. "Well, I am in desperate need of more stylists. They usually come to the place but look at its name and run away clutching their mouths..."

"Hmm... I wonder why!" Eric replied, nodding.

"Well, Eric, here comes a customer," Percy said, smiling at someone behind him. Eric turned around and spotted a hot blonde in a pink mini-skirt walk up to a chair and sit down.

"Ah!" Eric bit his knuckles.

Percy turned back to Eric. "You take the next customer that comes around and if they request for me..." He looked back at the blonde "...tell them I'm busy!" He left with a look of glee on his face.

Eric didn't have to wait long before another customer came along—a fat old lady with curly graying hair. Eric sighed and walked over to her. She turned to him with a piercing gaze and a blood-curdling frown. "Where is Percival?"

"Um... he is _busy_," Eric replied, suddenly very scared.

"_Busy_? You tell him to drag his kiester down here now!"

"Y-You see, I would," Eric told her, "but I'm kind of too scared to move, right now."

She glared at him.

"Heh heh." Eric shrugged with a pathetic grin on his face. "I would be... _glad_, however, to do your hair..."

He wished he hadn't said that. He didn't feel like going anywhere near her, let alone touch that twisted nest of hair on her head. But she seemed to accept the idea. "Very well. I would like as less hair as possible that would still make me look good," she told him. He nodded and she sat down.

Fifteen minutes later, Eric had finished his quite satisfying masterpiece and turned her chair around to face the mirror.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Isn't it beautiful?"

The woman stared at herself in the mirror and turned around to him. Her face was red with rage. "I... am... bald... you... idiot!"

"Yeah, I really wouldn't put it that way," Eric explained. "I think you look much better now than you did when you had your hair... and I must say you have a very nice, shiny head!"

"Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!"

Eric turned around to face Percival who was staring at the lady. "Eric, what have you done?"

"She looks beautiful, doesn't she?" Eric grinned at him.

Percival looked thoughtful. "Yes, I must say she's better than before, but—"

"Percival!" The lady growled at him.

"Oh, boy."

Scene 5: Java Spot

Eric walked into the building, his face long and his shoulders drooped. He stepped up to the gang at what seemed to have become their usual table where they sat laughing at something with a cup of coffee each. "Hey."

"Hello, Eric," Shawn said cheerfully. "So, how'd your first day at work go?"

"Well, it seemed to go pretty well," Eric said nodding enthusiastically, "until I got fired."

"You got fired?"

"Yup!" Eric sighed.

"Why?" Topanga asked him.

"Well, there was this customer, you see," Eric explained, sitting down. "She wanted as little hair possible that still made her look good."

"And?"

"I chopped it all off."

Silence.

"Yeah, I made her a baldy!" Eric said happily.

"Oh, boy," Cory muttered.

"And guess what! She turned out to be my boss's wife!"

Topanga patted his hand softly. "It's okay, Eric. There are a hundred careers out there and, trust me, one of them is going to be perfect for you! Just keep trying."

Eric nodded thoughtfully. "How about a henna artist?"

Topanga stopped patting his hand and sighed.

"I hate New York," Eric told her wistfully.

"Actually, New York can be very nice," Cory replied. "You just need to give every place you go a fair chance and be open to it!"

Eric frowned. "What happened to you?"

Topanga smiled at Cory and kissed him. Cory smiled at Eric.

"Pooky-Pook," Shawn whispered in his ear. Then, he frowned at the word that just came out of his mouth.

Cory sighed. "I love New York."


End file.
